Some people regularly have vivid dreams. And I personally love to hear about them…I prefer when their dreams are good, but I still like to hear them recount the bad ones. I have never in my life been one to remember good dreams. Rather, as far back as I can remember, the only dreams I’ve ever remembered were the horrible ones.
The first time this happened, I was six and started having–unfortunately–a recurring nightmare about me and the devil. Each and every time I had this dream, he would follow me and pretend to be my friend. Politely he would ask if he could have my bicycle. I would refuse, knowing that my parents would punish me for giving the bike away. Since I wouldn’t give him my bike, he would tell me I had to be punished and proceed to drag me to hell. In hindsight, it is kind of humorous, but for a six year old (and especially a six year old who grew up in a devout Southern Baptist family) it was horrifying.
There were other dreams over the years, but none that struck me so forcefully that I remembered them for long periods of time. This changed not long after the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami. Imagine driving down a dirt road along the ocean. Sounds pretty nice, right. But suddenly, a giant wave grabs your bus and your being tossed and turned inside the bus, watching the bus surrounded on all sides by churning water until it fills completely. Then you wake up gasping for breathe, because in the dream you were drowning.
Yeah, these dreams suck! So, while each night I attend Armitage World Chat, I echo the goodbye of “sweet dReAms,” the truth is–I’ve not really desired to have a dream in which Richard Armitage appeared. My reason–I’m sure you can guess by now–is because I’ve been certain that were I to remember the dream, it would be a nightmare.
Well, in the last week or two I’ve started having dreams in which he has appeared. I’ve decided to share, because I’m interested to see what people make of them. Because of the content of the first dream, I feel the need to clarify ahead of time that we have no control over what we dream and that my dreams don’t necessarily reflect my views or opinions about Mr. Armitage–in other words, don’t flay me alive for something I had no control over.
The first dream: Richard Armitage and I were a couple and I was pregnant with his baby. The problem (yes there was a problem) was that I wasn’t really me, but a MAN. As the dream continued RA was so concerned that people would find out about our unusual situation, that I had a sex change.
Random and short, but still disturbing at the time. It didn’t take long before I could laugh at the absurdity of it.
I went to answer my door and my neighbors were there. As soon as they entered a huge storm kicked up with the most ominous clouds and fiercest wind I’ve ever experienced. We watched for a while out of windows, until the windows started rattling. Realizing things were quickly getting dangerous, we ran for the only interior room of the house, a bathroom. By the time we got there the windows were out of the house and it took all our effort to get the bathroom door closed. Then, as quickly as it started the wind died, however the rain continued. The windows all along the back of the house (which wasn’t my real life house) were missing. It also turned out we had a basement (this was the basement from my childhood home) in which the windows had been blown out.
Apparently, my house was the only one effected by the storm, because people were coming out of the wood-works to help us secure the house from the rain. There were people from the church I grew up in, and friends from grad school helping. I spent more time wandering around thanking people for coming and helping than actually working. It didn’t really register as much (sorry Judi) but David Tennant was taping a tarp up where one of the windows had blown out.
Then I saw him, Guy of Gisborne (the greasy, long haired, disheveled Guy from series 3) was helping lift bi-fold doors that had the windows blown out of them. He proceeded to debate with those whom he worked about the best way to keep the rain out. I watched for a while, in shock (what was Guy of Gisborne doing in my storm ravaged house?). While still staring he turned to face me, grinning broadly and then he winked. When everything was secure. The neighbors went home and everyone else essentially evaporated. Everyone that is, except for Guy. He came over and kissed me, like REALLY kissed me. Then I woke up.
Truthfully, I don’t know what to make of the fact that I’ve started having these dreams. Any ideas?